The Devil's Demeanor (11 page)

There was
Ethan, sitting on his knees, his back to Don and the others. Leaves rustled off
to the right and Don saw something disappear into the woods. He couldn’t tell
what it had been, though. Ethan continued to face away from them, prompting Don
to run to his brother. He knelt down in front of Ethan, who was staring blankly
ahead. Don snapped his fingers in front of him, but Ethan didn’t blink or
respond in any way.

“Ethan?” Don
shook him gently by the shoulders. Only then did the youngest Scott boy snap
out of his stupor.

“Happy
Halloween,” Ethan said with a creepy grin.

“Who were you
talking to?” Don asked.

“He said he was
trying to reconnect with me,” Ethan replied. “He said he lost me for a while,
and that he’s glad we don’t live up north anymore.”

“Who?”

“The dog.”

Nick chuckled
behind Ethan. “Dogs don’t talk, little man.”

Ethan looked
over his shoulder. “This one does.” Back to Don: “He said he’s waiting for me
and Mommy. He needs us to help him.”

“Help him with
what?” Don couldn’t help asking.

“Help him kill
the others, those that can hurt him.” Ethan’s grin grew colder. “He said he
wants you, too, and that he won’t try to kill you anymore. He promises.”

*
 
*
 
*

“What was that
about?” Nick asked Don as they traveled back up the slope to meet with the
Stonebrooks.

“He’s been
watching a lot of horror movies,” Don said as he thought of what his brother
had told him. Could that have been a dog he saw running away from Ethan when
they had found him in the center of the clearing? Had it been a dog—a
talking
dog—that followed and watched them this night? If it was even possible, what
did this dog want with his mother and brother? With him?

The curse
theory sprang to him once again. Maybe the dog that had attacked Mom all those
years ago and the one Ethan had just “spoken” with were the same. Was it the
same dog Don and Sym ran into the other day while walking to the bus stop? But
what would it want with Don? He wasn’t cursed like Mom and Ethan. Was he?

All those acts
of violence, the unexpected anger….

Don saw the
Stonebrooks standing in front of Chainsaw House, looking wildly around. When
Mrs. Stonebrook spotted Don, she said, “Where have you kids been? You were
supposed to wait here.”

“We’re sorry,
Mrs. Stonebrook,” Don said. “We just went down the street to say hello to a
friend.”

He hoped she
bought his apology; he tried to make it sound sincere. After a moment, her
heated expression cooled.

“Your mother
would have killed me if I lost her boys,” she joked. “You guys want to hit this
house? It seems pretty popular.”

Don looked
behind her to the old couple and the man with the burlap sack over his head.
“No thanks. It looks too scary.”

May of 1996
concluded Don’s middle-school years, and when he returned from summer vacation,
he would be a high-school freshman. He was most excited about going to school
with Monica as well as his best friends Nick and Sym. Don couldn’t help but
smile every time he thought of Monica. Not even the curse could bring him down.

Ever since last
Halloween, nothing unusual had happened to Don or his family. Don knew not to
let his guard down—every time he did, strange things happened—but he accepted
there were some things completely out of his control.

Dad picked the
kids up a few days after school ended and drove them back to Melbourne. Don was
looking forward to seeing the boggy house off the highway and swimming in its
gloomy pool. He was also looking forward to all the movies summer had to offer.

It was night
when the van finally pulled into the driveway. Ethan had been snoozing in the
cushy backseat and sprang to life the moment Dad turned off the engine. The
brothers jumped out and grabbed their suitcases from the back as the house’s
front door opened, spilling light onto the yard.

Yvonne greeted
them with a one-year-old baby in her arms.

She laughed at
Don’s expression. Dad laughed too and said, “Her name’s Elizabeth. She’s your
new baby sister.”

A new sister.
It was one thing to know Yvonne was pregnant last summer, but to see the baby
now was another. Don was truly happy about the addition to the family.

Another family
reunion was planned for August, and Dad promised beach houses and barbeques.

In other words,
this summer would be the best one yet.

The house
seemed exactly the same as last year, only now there was a treadmill in the
sitting room. There was also a nice new couch in this room. It had a floral
red-and-green design. Yvonne instructed the kids to never, ever sit on it.

Dad had what he
called “the Internet” set up on his computer in the living room. Don had heard
of this Internet but had never used it before. He spent most of his first few
days checking out movie Web sites.

Uncle James,
Aunt Lydia, Candice and Nina arrived during the first week of June, and though
Don was happy to see them, he wasn’t happy about having to give up his room.
His aunt and uncle took his, while Candice and Nina took Ethan’s. The brothers
were forced to sleep on the foldout couch in the living room. It was
Connecticut all over again.

Though the
couch-bed wasn’t all that bad, having to wake up with everyone else was. The
living room was the first place everyone went in the morning, and Yvonne
snapped at the boys to put the couch back in order. Don also had nightmares
when he slept close to Ethan, nightmares about talking dogs who bit the heads
off of rabbits. After three days of that, he couldn’t stand it anymore.

The plan he’d
come up with seemed like a good one: Lay a blanket over the new couch before
lying down. That way, it wouldn’t get dirty. He doubted Yvonne would mind, and
even if she did, tough shit! He didn’t think he could take another nightmare.

As he spread a
blanket on top of the cushions, Yvonne walked in the sitting room and yelled,
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

At first, Don
was too stunned by the volume of her voice to respond. Finally, he said, “Why
can’t I sleep here? I put down a blanket.”

“What did I
tell you?” she snapped. “Get your ass in the sitting room!”

“We’re already
in the sitting room.” He remembered how she’d told him about the difference
between sitting rooms and living rooms. Yvonne’s eyes grew wide with anger, but
before she could yell again, Don had grabbed the sheet and pillow and left the
room.

He planted
himself on the couch next to his cousins and stared at the TV. He was so mad,
he couldn’t speak. His heart raced. His aunt and uncle were in the kitchen,
talking with Dad. They all stared at Don, but he didn’t care. He was too busy
fighting the angry tears that threatened to spring forth.

Ethan was on
the floor near the computer, staring at him as well. Don wanted to kick his
little brother. He decided he would sleep on the floor that night. Maybe then
he would sleep peacefully.

The next day
was his visiting relatives’ last so Dad decided to take them out to dinner.
Don, still fuming from the argument with Yvonne, decided to stay home. Dad left
twenty dollars on the kitchen counter and told him to order a pizza if he
wanted.

Don liked
having the house to himself, and spent most of his time surfing the Web. He’d
tried ordering a pizza on the phone, but when the pizza guy asked for the
address, Don drew a blank. He told the guy never mind and hung up. He then went
outside, saw the house number and the street sign, then called back. The pizza
guy told him they didn’t deliver to that area and Don should call another place
closer. Don could see the pizza place way down the highway from the front door
and thought he’d called again, telling the guy that he was just down the
street. After a while, he gave up and went hungry.

After a few
hours of being alone, he started to get scared. He knew it was silly for a fourteen-year-old
boy to be afraid of being alone in a house, but he couldn’t help it. He kept
hearing strange noises outside, and the background noise of the TV didn’t help
to distract him.

To calm
himself—and block out the noises—Don went into Dad and Yvonne’s room and played
one of his own CDs on Yvonne’s boom box. He’d left his portable CD player in
Georgia and often snuck in the room to listen to his music whenever Yvonne
wasn’t around. He was fond of orchestral scores, music most people didn’t
listen to. Don was often embarrassed by his taste in music, and liked to listen
in secret. He knew it was foolish to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it.

Listening to
music helped a little, though he kept the light off just in case his family
returned. Don didn’t want them to know he was in the room. Shadows played
across the blinds in the window, and he could swear he saw something standing
just outside the house. He took his CD out of the boom box and went back to the
living room, but before he could reach the couch, he saw something that nearly
made his heart stop.

The patio door
was wide open.

Don hadn’t gone
outside at all during his time alone, so he knew he wasn’t responsible for the
open door. “Hello?” he called. No response. He slowly walked to the door until
he saw the pool just outside. It looked even gloomier than usual.

“Hello?” he
called again to the darkness. He then looked past the door, to the two bedrooms
at the end of the tiny hall. Was someone—something—in his room? He didn’t know
and was too scared to find out. He felt completely helpless, paralyzed with
fear.

He suddenly
began to cry and felt stupid for doing so. Where was Dad? Why wasn’t he home
yet?

A sound from
outside startled Don, halting his tears instantly. He reached for the door to
close it, praying no one was
inside
the house with him, when a voice
outside whispered, “I want to talk to you.”

Don jumped but
didn’t close the door. The voice had sounded far away, beyond the screen walls
of the patio. Someone was in the backyard, with the giant trees.

“Who’s there?”
he asked the voice.

“A friend,”
came the response.

“What do you
want?”

“To talk.”

“About what?”

“Come outside.”

Don stepped
onto the pavement and slowly walked around the pool to the screen wall. He’d
turned on the patio light before doing so and now felt horribly exposed. The
backyard was pitch black.

“I know who you
are,” Don said into the darkness, and he really did know now.

“Truly?” The
voice was closer. “Who am I?”

“You’re the dog
that talked to my brother last Halloween.” Don took a breath before continuing.
“You’re the dog that bit my mom.”

There was a
long silence, as if the voice was trying to figure out how to respond. Finally,
it said, “Dogs don’t talk, little man.”

Don suddenly
felt a chill after hearing Nick’s words to Ethan thrown at him just now. That
confirmed it.

“I’m not really
a dog,” said the voice. “I just look like one.”

Don jumped back
and nearly fell into the pool. The response had come from a different place
altogether, a few feet away and farther to the left. “Why are you doing this to
my family?” he asked the disembodied voice.

“I’m not doing
anything; I’m merely observing.”

“Bullshit!” Don
yelled. “You’re making us do things—bad things.”

“I’m not making
you do anything you wouldn’t already do.”

“I don’t believe
you.” Don had forgotten he was talking to a dog-like entity. He was simply
angry now.

“Are you
referring to your episodes of uncontrollable anger?” The voice sounded
different now. It was high-pitched, with an English accent that was completely
unpleasant. “I have nothing to do with those.”

“Liar!”

“Do you really
believe I’m being untruthful?” the voice asked, returning to its regular,
conversational tone.

The scary thing
was, Don believed the voice when it said it had nothing to do with his anger.

“That’s why I’m
so interested in all of you,” the voice said. “Your mother was pregnant when
I...tainted her. That’s never happened before. But you...”

Don waited for
it to finish, holding his breath. “What are you?” he finally asked the
darkness.

“Would you
believe I’m a demon escaped from hell, looking to conquer the mortal world?”

Before Don
could reply, another voice called from inside the house. “Donovan, where are
you?”

Dad and the
others were back. Don still couldn’t see who he’d been speaking with in the
backyard, but he knew whatever it was had gone.

*
 
*
 
*

Things between
Don and Yvonne had not improved by the time the family reunion began. The two
had bickered over pointless things, but Don’s heart was never in the arguments.
The voice couldn’t be proven correct. Don couldn’t accept he was angry and
violent by nature. At least, not
that
angry and violent. While at the
beach house, he tried not to let Yvonne’s tantrums get to him. Whenever she
yelled at him, he just grinned and bared it.

“She’s the adult
and you’re the kid,” Dad had said after one such argument, though he tried to
sound sympathetic. “Just do whatever she says.”

Don didn’t
respond to his father’s advice at the time, though he didn’t agree with that at
all. Why should he have to put up with Yvonne’s crap? It wasn’t fair. But then
he thought back to when his dad had spewed his words of wisdom. He had detected
a note of defeat in Dad’s voice, and imagined he had it worse than anyone else
when it came to that woman.

Don felt
sorrier for his dad than he did for himself as he thought about Yvonne
officially joining the family.

He tried to
forget his worries by losing himself to the atmosphere of the beach house. All
of his aunts, uncles and cousins were there, and everyone’s eyes were glued to
TVs for the summer Olympics. Don was surprised once, while watching the
gymnastics portion on a portable TV on the dining table, Yvonne and Elizabeth
had joined him. The back-porch door had been open, and a cool summer-night
breeze had blown through the dining room as he and Yvonne commented on the
performances. Ethan had taken a break from running around the house with his
cousins to join his brother, stepmom and baby sister.

*
 
*
 
*

Dad drove the
boys back to Georgia a week later, exhausted but in good spirits. In the rear
of the van, the boys exchanged tales about the cute things the baby had done.
Don told of a time when she farted while he held her. Ethan said she closed her
eyes for a few seconds, only to appear cross-eyed when she opened them again.

It was dark
when Dad pulled the van into the driveway. Don had woken up just as they
entered Augusta and was ready to play some videogames. He noticed Adrian’s
motorcycle parked behind Mom’s car and realized Adrian and Dad were about to
meet for the first time.

The front door
opened and Mom walked out onto the lawn as Dad pulled the suitcases from the
back of the van. “Did you boys have fun?” she asked her sons, smiling.

They
immediately went on about the beach house, the Olympics, the new baby—

Mom’s smile
vanished quickly. She looked at Dad as he dragged the suitcases to the front of
the house. “You and Yvonne had a baby?” she asked.

Before he could
reply, Ethan added, “And they got married!”

Mom was
completely speechless. Don couldn’t tell what was going through her head. She
almost seemed shocked and angry, judging by her expression, but why would she
be? The front door opened, and Adrian was standing among them. He had a cap
turned sideways, which nearly made Don laugh.

“What’s up,
man?” Adrian said to Dad as he offered his hand. Dad shook it.

“Adrian,” said
Mom, “this is my ex-husband Patrick. Patrick, this is Adrian.”

“Nice to meet
you,” said Dad. “Hilda says you’re very good to her.”

“I try,” said
Adrian.

“Patrick got
married and had a baby, though not in that order,” Mom added. She seemed
slightly happy, though Don felt it was an act.

“Congrats,”
Adrian said.

“Thanks. So,
tell me, how long have you two been together?”

Adrian looked
at Mom. “A few years, I guess.” He put an arm around her shoulders.

“When are you
guys going to tie the knot?” Dad asked next.

“That’s none of
your damn business,” Mom said venomously.

“Just making
conversation.” Dad raised his hands as if Mom had pulled a gun on him.